<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Maybe I would like you better if you took off your clothes by MeanderingMotivation</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24388804">Maybe I would like you better if you took off your clothes</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeanderingMotivation/pseuds/MeanderingMotivation'>MeanderingMotivation</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Witcher A/B/O [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alpha Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Attempted Seduction, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Omega Jaskier | Dandelion, Scenting, Unresolved Sexual Tension</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 02:40:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,599</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24388804</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeanderingMotivation/pseuds/MeanderingMotivation</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jaskier had agreed to abstain from mating until the bonding ceremony. </p>
<p>That doesn’t mean he won’t try his luck though. </p>
<p>OR<br/>Geralt demonstrates an impressive level of self-restraint, but doesn’t hesitate to return the favour.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Witcher A/B/O [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1597840</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>700</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Interesting Character and/or Interesting Relationship Development</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Maybe I would like you better if you took off your clothes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So this definitely ISN’T worth the wait. To anyone who’s been reading this as a series, I apologise for how short this is. I do have plans for a longer next instalment though 😊</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>“I know a secluded cabin we can use,” Geralt tells him this over breakfast one morning. ‘Breakfast’ being a handful of berries, and some roots. Jaskier works his jaw as he tries to swallow them, feeling rather reminiscent of Roach, who is chewing a mouthful of grass. He hopes, at least, that he doesn’t resemble her so heavily. “It isn’t close by.”</p>
<p>“We’re alone in the woods, with a perfectly good bedroll between us. The fire is still crackling, I’m well-rested, and there’s a brook not far from here. Why don’t we just mate tonight?” This isn’t the first time Jaskier has made such a suggestion. Ever since Geralt had agreed to bond him, he’d become increasingly impatient for them to mate, and never missed an opportunity to try tempting the witcher into abandoning his convictions. “I understand you still want our mating to be traditional, but you said yourself the cabin isn’t close by. We won’t be disturbed here.” Jaskier sends the man a wide, sultry smile. The kind of smile he uses to seduce married women. “<em>I’m all yours.” </em></p>
<p>Geralt stares at him inscrutably for a moment, before saying, gruffly, “You’ve got a seed stuck in your teeth.”</p>
<p>Jaskier deflates like a popped balloon, running his tongue over his incisor, and dislodging the seed resting there. He’s never felt more unattractive in his life, and the rejection doesn’t settle well. Jaskier isn’t used to rejection, although that may be due to his choices in conquest. Before Geralt, he’d never tried to seduce a man <em>or </em>woman who wouldn’t fall entirely for his boyish charms.</p>
<p>Even the knowledge that Geralt was yearning as desperately as he was didn’t assuage his ego. Nor did it make his sexual appetite lessen any. Jaskier was a young man, and he’d never gone so long without…<em>indulging </em>before. And to know Geralt was available for the plundering, <em>all his, </em>if only they could get the initial bonding over with first-</p>
<p>Unable to help himself, Jaskier allowed his omega pheromones to become more prominent, the subtle scent becoming headier, and impossible to ignore. It was a red flag, and an obvious invitation to the alpha. He was <em>signalling</em> to be bred.</p>
<p>Geralt, who already had a rather keen nose, stood abruptly from his perch on the wooden log, striding purposefully over to where Roach was grazing, before unceremoniously-</p>
<p>Jaskier stopped in surprise, and then huffed, realising the man was countering his ploy. “Are you <em>sniffing </em>her mane?” He asked, incredulously.</p>
<p>“I like the smell of horses. I find it comforting.” It was a new titbit of information, and Jaskier was surprised he hadn’t just received one of the man’s patented grunts in response. “I’ll be staying here, until you stop trying to manipulate me with your scent.”</p>
<p>Jaskier makes a show of blinking innocently. “Geralt, you have such a paranoid mind! I was doing no such thing. Perhaps you are just having trouble resisting my scent. We <em>are </em>mates, after all.”</p>
<p>“Omegas have tried pressuring me with their scent in the past, Jaskier. Usually as a trap for their alphas to kill me. Your attempts are clumsy at best.”</p>
<p><em>Clumsy? </em>Jaskier thought, indignantly. <em>I’ll show him. </em>“I really haven’t the foggiest-“</p>
<p>Geralt growled, evidently growing tired of the bard’s behaviour. Although his tolerance for Jaskier’s antics had grown since they’d first met, he still couldn’t manage an even temperament for long, especially when it came to an issue they had already <em>discussed. </em>“We <em>are </em>going to mate at the cabin, Jaskier. It will be traditional, as we agreed upon.”</p>
<p>Abandoning the pretence of innocence, Jaskier wailed “But I’m <em>pent up! </em>My body <em>burns</em> with desire for you, Geralt! Your very presence sets my nerve endings on fire, I could write the filthiest of songs about what I want you to do to me-“</p>
<p>“Do you think I am unaffected, Jaskier?”</p>
<p>“No, but-“</p>
<p>“Learn to master your urges better. You’re behaving like a spoiled child.”</p>
<p>Jaskier bites his tongue at this, his cheeks flushing at the scold. His mind, indeed, had been chanting <em>I want it, I want it, I want it! </em>and it was hard to maintain a mature semblance, when, really-</p>
<p>Perhaps the witcher had been accurate in his assessment of their age difference in this regard. Jaskier was a man barely past adolescence, used to sticking his cock in anything that seemed remotely pleasurable, and Geralt-</p>
<p>A master at restraint, apparently. How bothersome.</p>
<p>“Can we at least kiss?” Jaskier’s voice is far from meek as he relents, and his blue gaze is fierce as he stares the witcher down. He’s practically <em>daring </em>him to say no.</p>
<p>Geralt stares back, undaunted, and replies, sternly, “Only if you’re good.”</p>
<p>Jaskier makes a show of crossing himself, from his forehead to his shoulders, inwardly praying he won’t burst into flames for being such a heinous, sinning, <em>liar. </em></p>
<p>“You aren’t religious.” Geralt says, but he still moves away from Roach, who shakes out her ruffled mane. He lowers himself onto the bedroll spread a little ways from the fire, and Jaskier doesn’t bother with delicacy or seduction, tumbling to the ground to meet him. He’s embarrassingly over-eager, but who could blame him? Geralt had been so reluctant to do so much as <em>hold-hands, </em>not trusting himself not to fall to the temptation that was <em>Jaskier.</em> Which, when the bard thought about it, was actually kind of flattering- </p>
<p>Jaskier reaches out with the desperation of a starving man, gentle, at first, running a hand through the man’s silver hair, and down his cheek. Before, inevitably, pushing down on his chest firmly, in an attempt to get the man on his back. Jaskier wants to use his mouth for something <em>other</em> than kissing tonight, and it will be easier to get <em>down there </em>if Geralt is on his back, clutching at his hair, bucking his hips upwards-</p>
<p>The fantasy is so vivid in his mind’s eye. Jaskier can imagine the look on Geralt’s face as he grunts his pleasure, almost <em>feel </em>the weight of his cock on his tongue, taste the salt of his essence as it drips down his throat, the sensation of his cheeks hollowing out, his hands massaging-</p>
<p>Like a splash of cold water to the smouldering bard, the fantasy is abruptly shattered when Geralt captures his wrists in one hand, pinning them definitively down on the fabric of the bedroll. His brow is furrowed, but there’s an amused glimmer in his golden eyes that Jaskier finds <em>infuriating. </em>The hard lines of his mouth are twitching as he tells him “No” resolutely, as if Jaskier is a misbehaving animal. “None of that.”</p>
<p>“What?” Jaskier frowned, twitching his hands in frustration. “I didn’t even do anything!”</p>
<p>“Your scent betrays your intentions, Jaskier. And your arse…”</p>
<p>“Is firmly planted on the ground, thank you very much! I haven’t spread myself for you!”</p>
<p>“I can smell the slick even through your trousers.”</p>
<p>“Don’t be-“ Jaskier shifts, and feels his bottom <em>squelch. </em>His eyes widen, and he feels himself blush in embarrassment. “This…this has never happened before! Only when I’m in heat!” Jaskier knew that omegas could produce slick when in the presence of a viable alpha, but they hadn’t even <em>kissed-</em></p>
<p>“You are naïve about these matters.” Geralt doesn’t phrase it like a question. He’s stating a fact. “We are mates, Jaskier. Your body is just preparing for our mating.”</p>
<p>“But-“ Jaskier paused, an awful idea suddenly occurring to him. “Preparing, did you say?”</p>
<p>“Hmm.”</p>
<p>“My body prepares by producing slick, to make the <em>penetration,” </em>he sounds so formal “easier, especially for a knot. That’s omega biology basics.” As an omega, Jaskier was <em>sure </em>he knew more about his body than Geralt, an old-fashioned alpha who once asked him <em>how many pups he wanted </em>and became confused when Jaskier insisted he wasn’t interested in children. It was in the earlier stages of their friendship, and Geralt had been borderline <em>baffled. </em>Geralt had outdated views, and frequently quarrelled with Jaskier about them. But…</p>
<p>Jaskier had never mated with anybody before, and he was unfamiliar with the process. He’d decided to follow Geralt’s lead on this, but- “Will anything else with my body change, in preparation for our union?” He has to force the question out, loathing undermining his stance on being the supreme expert on omega biology between them, but he <em>needs</em> to know-</p>
<p>“Shouldn’t you already know?”</p>
<p>Jaskier is prideful. He bites his tongue, even as he pulls himself away from Geralt in irritation, the fun mood effectively spoiled.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>The next time he tries his luck, he’s practically assured in his success. The conditions favour him, and Geralt is already worn down from a day of hard riding.</p>
<p>Nothing is more satisfying than a good fuck after a long day, Jaskier knows. He’s been subtly leaking his pheromones all day, brushing up against Geralt’s leg as he walks along the road, and leaning back into his weight during the brief period he rides with him in the late afternoon. The light teasing has gone unacknowledged, but Jaskier can tell Geralt has noticed. He’s tense, and his scent is sharp. <em>Pent up. </em>Adding this to the fact that the man hasn’t visited a brothel in some time…</p>
<p>He must be just as desperate as Jaskier. If not more so. It was killing the both of them, being in such close proximity with their mate, and being unable to <em>act upon it. </em>The biological urges are like a persistent itch neither of them can scratch, and it’s only a matter of time-</p>
<p>
  <em>Geralt may have an impressive amount of self-restraint, but I can crack him. </em>
</p>
<p>Jaskier isn’t some innocent, virginal omega. Certainly, he was inexperienced when it came to relationships with alphas, but travelling as a bard had taught him many lessons that his schooling had not. Life-lessons. Street smarts. He wasn’t chained to his status, he was <em>weaponised. </em></p>
<p>Well, he was <em>hoping </em>he could be. It would be a great asset in persuading alphas, and he knew that once he was mated to Geralt, he could even extend his influence outwards-</p>
<p>“Collect firewood.” Geralt commands, brusquely, as they’re settling down for the night. He’s rubbing Roach down, the horse standing immaculately still as he unburdens her from her saddle.</p>
<p>Jaskier, who had been leaning against a nearby tree, and strumming his lute (also wafting some of his pheromones over to Geralt as subtly as he could manage) frowned. “But last time I did that I got an awful splinter in my thumb! I couldn’t play my lute for days!” Even a herbal mixture Geralt had crushed for him hadn’t been enough to halt the small infection he’d gotten. He’d needed medicine from a town for it to completely go away.</p>
<p>“Gods forbid I ask you to dirty your delicate hands.”</p>
<p>“Excuse me,” Jaskier huffed, at the sarcastic comment. “Have you seen these fingers of mine? They aren’t delicate at all!” Whilst his palms were mostly unblemished, his fingers were decidedly not so. Strong and calloused, from many years perfecting his craft. “Do you think it’s easy strumming an instrument all day and night?”</p>
<p>“You choose to do that, Jaskier. Nobody would make you.”</p>
<p>“Are you implying that nobody enjoys hearing me play?”</p>
<p>“Hmm.”</p>
<p>Geralt insulting his musical talents has always been a sore spot for Jaskier, and in retaliation, he pushes out a particularly strong waft of scent, fresh and enticing. He bites down on his lower lip to prevent a smirk, when Geralt’s nostrils flare, and the witcher, once more, buries his face in Roach’s mane to try and block out the pheromones.</p>
<p>“I think I will collect some firewood.” Jaskier remarks, unable to hold back the spite that works itself into his voice. Carefully placing his lute into its case, he takes two long strides, until he’s within Geralt’s line of vision. There’s a small chunk of wood laying there, hardly worth picking up. But it serves its purpose, as Jaskier <em>very deliberately</em> bends down, his backside facing the witcher, and swipes it up. He knows how well his arse fills out these particular trousers, how they’ve always been a favourite of some of his past conquests. “Happy?” He asks, turning to face Geralt with a blank expression. He doesn’t bother with fake virtue, the man knows him too well to be fooled by that.</p>
<p>Geralt’s throat bobs, his Adam’s apple prominent on his starkly pale skin. If he had less restraint, Jaskier was sure the man would be drooling.</p>
<p>
  <em>Alphas. And they think <strong>they’re </strong>the superior species. Animals, the lot of them. </em>
</p>
<p>Alas, his smug ruminations are abruptly cut short when Geralt growls, low-pitched and thundering, a clear sign of displeasure. It’s more aggressive than his usual grumbles of distaste, and Jaskier has to fight to keep his head up, the instinct to lower it almost too immense for him to handle. Not being an overly submissive omega, the pressure is foreign to Jaskier. Too foreign to be intriguing, or enjoyable. “You’re shameless<em>.</em>” Geralt gets out from between clenched teeth.</p>
<p>“Well, I certainly hope so,” Jaskier’s voice is a little higher-pitched than normal. “Because I haven’t done anything wrong. <em>You’re </em>the one who’s being a complete and utter prude-“</p>
<p>“And <em>you’re </em>being a complete and utter <em>brat,”</em> Geralt countered, oddly talkative. Well, perhaps not talkative. More like…<em>growly. </em>“Like a child being deprived of a toy.”</p>
<p>“I do hope your cock is bigger than <em>toy sized, </em>Geralt.”</p>
<p>“As if you don’t already know how big it is, with all of your staring.”</p>
<p>Jaskier puffed his cheeks out, but couldn’t think of a rebuttal for that. The witcher was, technically, correct. Jaskier had spent so much time gazing at Geralt’s nether regions, that he could probably sketch them from memory alone. Whether his cock be hanging heavily between his legs, or bobbing up proudly, or, even on the odd occasion where Jaskier had <em>caught him- </em></p>
<p>“You’re impatient.” Geralt goes on, as Jaskier’s eyes become a little distant in fond recollection. “Young, and overeager. Do you have any idea of what I’ll do to you, when we finally mate, Jaskier?”</p>
<p>Jaskier blinks. Once, twice, and flutters his eyelashes just for good measure. “Please educate me, <em>oh mighty alpha.” </em></p>
<p>Geralt’s voice is gruff, filled with barely restrained frustration, as he answers. “I’m going to fuck you so hard, you won’t be able to move your hips for <em>weeks. </em>You’ll be bedridden the next day, and with our bond finally consummated…you’ll be <em>begging </em>for a reprieve before I’m done with you.”</p>
<p>It’s Jaskier’s turn to gulp, and when he does it, his throat feels dry. <em>Only one ‘fuck’, and already this is hotter than any other dirty-talk I’ve ever engaged in. </em>He can feel his cock stir in his trousers, a shock of heat spreading across his face. “G-Geralt-“</p>
<p>Geralt scents the air again, and rolls his eyes at the potent smell of arousal flooding from the omega. Despite his flippant reaction, Jaskier doesn’t neglect noticing that the witcher adjusts his own leather trousers. “The anticipation will make the ceremony more satisfying, Jaskier.”</p>
<p>At yet another herculean display of self-restraint from the witcher, Jaskier moans miserably. His own plan to entice the witcher had backfired, and now <em>he </em>was the one practically <em>quivering </em>for it, his backside already beginning to leak small amounts of slick-</p>
<p>“I’m going to walk in that direction,” Geralt jabs a gloved thumb over Roach’s neck, his own face a little pink upon hearing the sound of Jaskier’s moan. With his superb sense of smell, he can probably scent the beginnings of slick as well. His self-control is…impressive. “And when I come back, I want your adolescent urges curbed. Understood?”</p>
<p>“I’m <em>not </em>adolescent anymore-“</p>
<p>“<em>Understood?”</em></p>
<p>“Can’t…” Jaskier lets out a small keen, when Geralt <em>looks </em>at him, sending out a punchy waft of his own pheromones, strong enough to have Jaskier’s knees trembling. “We…<em>together?</em>”</p>
<p>“No. The temptation would be too much.”</p>
<p>“We don’t have to <em>touch </em>one another. I could just…watch?” Jaskier knows how pathetic his wheedling is, but he’s had nothing but the familiar contours of his own hand for <em>months, </em>and with Geralt being in such close proximity, looking and <em>smelling </em>so appealing-</p>
<p>
  <em>Wait. Is this how <strong>he’s</strong> been feeling this whole time? Whenever I push out pheromones or tease him? Gods, I’m a monster. This is <strong>torturous. </strong></em>
</p>
<p>“You want to watch as I pleasure myself?” Geralt’s lips are twitching again, and Jaskier flinches when another scent of smothering pheromones washes over him, sending a rush of heat through his naval.</p>
<p>“Obviously!”</p>
<p>“Hmm.” Even Jaskier’s loss of composure wasn’t enough to curb his stroppy attitude.</p>
<p>“I’ll keep my hands to myself, Geralt. I promise!”</p>
<p>“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Jaskier.” For a moment, Geralt contemplates making the bard beg, before discarding the idea. It would be too cruel, when he intends on depriving him regardless of his prostrations. And begging…they hadn’t even <em>mated </em>yet. It was best to take it slow with Jaskier. The experimentation could come once the younger male had gotten accustomed to being bonded. <em>Not, </em>Geralt thinks, as the bard squirmed, <em>that he wouldn’t deserve it, after all of the shit he’s pulled today. </em>Blessed with the self-restraint that came with age or otherwise, it was <em>incredibly </em>hard for Geralt to resist his willing mate.</p>
<p>“I can be good!”</p>
<p>Geralt didn’t bother wasting words on <em>that.</em> A sceptical look was enough. “Hmm.”</p>
<p>Defeated, Jaskier dropped the stick he had picked up not so long ago, and collapsed onto the bedroll he’d already laid out, spreading his legs in a lewd, but relieving fashion. “Fine! Punish me then!”</p>
<p>“This isn’t punishment.” And Geralt was sure Jaskier knew that. They’d both agreed to abstaining until they could mate in a more traditional fashion, this was just sexual tension and frustration boiling over. He should have expected it, really. He supposed…<em>Jaskier has always been shamelessly promiscuous, but I never thought an omega could be so pushy.</em></p>
<p>But, as Geralt had come to know very well recently, Jaskier was no <em>ordinary </em>omega, even if he was naïve about mating ceremonies and other matters. He was a cocky, stubborn little shit, but-</p>
<p>It was that exact <em>insufferable</em> trait that had kept them together despite their fundamental differences as people, and, of course, their drastic differences in opinion about so many issues…</p>
<p>“The wait will be worth it.” Geralt isn’t much for assurances, but this he can say with complete and utter certainty. They are confident in their coupling, and the mating will be pre-mediated, and entirely consensual. Those two things counted for a lot, when it came to bonding. <em>I know I said I’d be rough with him, but I’d never hurt him in a way he wouldn’t enjoy. The mating ceremony…he <strong>will </strong>enjoy that. </em></p>
<p>“If it isn’t, I won’t be kind in the songs I write about our love.” Jaskier warned. He’s utterly unabashed, as he unlaces his trousers, exposing himself to the cool evening air. He groans slightly, but it doesn’t stop him from grasping his length, as if masturbating during a conversation is entirely normal. He starts to lazily pull his hand back and forth, and Geralt is transfixed, unable to look away from the sight. Jaskier could be some otherworldly creature, like this. Lounging in the greenery, spread in such a deceptively inviting fashion, blue eyes shining, and pink flushed across the bones of his cheeks…</p>
<p>His cock is erect, a faint reddish hue signalling his heavy arousal. Geralt can scent slick in the air, the omega’s body <em>begging </em>for fulfilment, and then there’s the other pheromones, simultaneously fresh and dizzying all at once…</p>
<p>He’s temptation personified for Geralt.</p>
<p>Until he opens his mouth again, that is. “Imagine the damage I could do to your reputation, if I wrote a ballad about you finding completion without satisfying me,” The spell abruptly broken, Geralt glowers at the chatty bard, who still carries on with pleasuring himself, undisturbed by his own voice. “Or if I fabricated a lie about the size of your cock-“</p>
<p>“I see all of those jests about you enjoying the sound of your own voice are true.” Geralt picked up his discarded swords, in preparation for his long, <em>long </em>walk through the woods, and a net, for good measure. ”I’ll try and catch fish for dinner.”</p>
<p>“Hold on a second,” Jaskier said, with a high-pitched, omegan whine, when Geralt made to stalk away. “Geralt, I didn’t say <em>you </em>couldn’t watch <em>me…”</em></p>
<p>“I can watch you tomorrow.” Geralt replied, flatly. “Or later tonight, when you take it out again.” He tries not to smirk in amusement when Jaskier halts entirely in his movements, an offended look upon his youthful face.</p>
<p>“<em>You </em>rigid, uncompromising <em>arse </em>of an alpha!”</p>
<p>“You wilful, scheming <em>prick </em>of an omega.” Geralt returned, inflectionless. “Don’t leave Roach. I’ll be back later.”</p>
<p>“I’m not even going to kiss you goodbye!”</p>
<p>“Forage for roots. Don’t eat any berries. They’re poisonous in this region.”</p>
<p>“<em>Ugh. </em>You are <em>impossible, </em>Geralt of Rivia!” Despite his fury with the witcher, Jaskier still admires his broad shoulders as he moves away, and the way his silvery hair seems to glow in the darkening evening. So <em>undeniably sexy</em>, but ethereal in a way…</p>
<p>Roach suddenly whinnies, turning her head to peer at Jaskier. Her eyes are so intelligent, that he immediately tucks himself back away, uncomfortable at the scrutiny, even if she’s only an animal. It’s like he’s been doused in cold water, his arousal fizzling out rather pathetically.</p>
<p>
  <em>The wait had better be worth it.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Jaskier, congratulations, you played yourself. </p>
<p>This is basically the time spent in between the next instalment (the mating ceremony 😉) and me slightly dabbling with smut without properly writing all of it. The next one in this series should definitely have that, for anyone who is waiting. </p>
<p>I know this posting has been delayed, and that this fic is short, but I haven’t really been writing a whole lot lately. I hope this isn’t too disappointing for anyone. If I haven’t replied to any comments, it’s not because I’m being rude, I’m just a bit drained at the moment 😊 </p>
<p>I also hope that anyone reading is doing okay at the moment! I know it’s kind of hard for everyone to be positive at the moment, and that 2020 overall has been pretty horrible, so I hope this fic at least was somewhat distracting. </p>
<p>Take care of yourselves! </p>
<p>(Title taken from If You’re Too Shy (Let Me Know) by The 1975)</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>